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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22531099">Synchronicity</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akoia/pseuds/Akoia'>Akoia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ancient Elves (Dragon Age), Canon-Typical Violence, Dalish Elves, F/F, F/M, Friends of Red Jenny, M/M, Mage-Templar War (Dragon Age), Magic, Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern Girl is Not Inquisitor, Murder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 12:28:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,488</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22531099</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akoia/pseuds/Akoia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emilia Williams was just a normal person. Until an encounter at a bar sent her spiraling through time and space to land in a brand new world. Her destiny is not yet written, so she's handed the quill, to write it herself.  </p><p>(Updates every Sunday)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>I'm open to suggestions - Relationship, Undecided</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter Zero:  Great Expectations And How To Disappoint A Stranger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>9:50 Dragon </b>
  <b><br/>
</b>
  <b>Undisclosed Location</b>
</p><p>
  <span>This was not Emilia's first shakedown, so she pretended that she was completely calm and in control. Because when it came right down to it, that’s how you won the game. The man sitting in front of her was a rather severe-looking man, his mustache just as graying as his hair. She smirked at him, propping her legs up on the table, and leaning back in her chair. Though her arms were bound behind her, keeping her from crossing them in any way shape or form. But she imagined that the message was received. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Emilia Williams, correct?” The man asked her, unrolling a scroll, and dipping a quill in ink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Considering your thugs dragged me here in the dead of night, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>know who I am,” she answered. “Or do your men just do this for sport?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes and wrote a few things down. “Do you know why you’re here?” He asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It could be a number of things...</span>
  <em>
    <span>friend...</span>
  </em>
  <span>why don’t you enlighten me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are here because certain individuals want to know more about your involvement in the Inquisition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh?” She tilted her head to the side. “Why don’t you read Varric’s book? He got most of it right.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But we don’t need </span>
  <em>
    <span>some,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he said, leaning forward. “We need it </span>
  <em>
    <span>all.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned away, glancing at the two figures guarding the door. Shrouded by their cloaks, faces hidden behind skin tight masks that covered their mouths, eyes that refused to meet hers. She got the sneaking suspicion that they weren’t part of the Chantry or some nonsense. “And who, might I ask, wants to know?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s none-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir!” She interrupted him. “Considering that I was dragged from my bed, beaten, bound, and woke up tied to a chair...I feel as if I am entitled to some explanation. Or I’m afraid this conversation is </span>
  <em>
    <span>over.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have ways of making you talk,” he threatened her quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not if I bite my tongue off…” She scoffed and threw her hair back, flinging black curls from her face. “Your move, </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked at the two guards by the door and pressed his lips together in frustration. “We do not operate under any banner, nor do we have a name. We have no allegiance to any one God, man, or country. We are a group of individuals who are hoping to avoid chaos.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” she whispered as if it had all suddenly before clear to her. “Yes, Lady Nightingale might have mentioned something about you people. She had assumed you wouldn’t have been so problematic, or bold, as to sneak into Skyhold and kidnap someone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a necessity.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed, shoulders shaking, head thrown back in mirth. “Oh you guys </span>
  <em>
    <span>suck,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she said. She took her feet off the table and sat up straighter in her chair. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>A necessity,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she mocked his Orlesian accent. “No one knows how to send a God damned letter these days.” She huffed and looked the man in the eyes. “But you don’t really care about my actions during the Inquisition, do you?” She asked. “You want to know about one man in particular.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he said, almost breathless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Solas,” she whispered, carrying the end of his name on her tongue, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>poison. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he said. “And also no. Something in your story doesn’t quite add up. And anything you have to say might be useful.” He dipped his quill again and looked down at his paper. “So start at the beginning.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sighed and blew air through her lips like a horse. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but only so I can stall you long enough for the Inquisition to find me.” She smirked and winked at him when he glared harshly. “I’m going to tell you the truth, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>whole </span>
  </em>
  <span>truth, that even Varric couldn’t print in his book. So you better pay attention, sir, because I’ll only tell it once.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter One: Through A Rabbit Hole, But So Much Worse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>2020</b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>A Dive Bar In Los Angles </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Twenty-One-year-old Emilia Williams was currently feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>low. Her best friend kept the drinks coming, but even shots of whiskey like there was no tomorrow wasn’t helping. She took another. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>him,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jamie said, bumping their shoulders together. “Cheaters don’t change.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” she said, tracing her finger around the edge of her glass. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she felt the tears in her eyes and turned away from her friend to take a few deep breaths.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It still hurts, I get it,” Jamie said. “I’ll go get us another round,” she told Emilia, standing up.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as she was gone, someone sat right beside Emilia and leaned against the bar. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not interested,” she said flatly, standing up to follow Jamie. But the man grabbed her by the wrist. “Let go!” She ordered him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t mean to frighten you, lass,” he said. He let go of her, and Emilia noticed rather suddenly that all sound around her had ceased. She looked behind her and saw the man was flipping through a deck of cards. “Tell me, do you believe in magic?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you?” She asked, her voice shaking for just a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come now,” he scolded her, laying the cards out in a line on the bar, throwing a glass over the edge to make room. “It’s not polite to answer a question with another question.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” she answered. “Now who are you?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have a lot of names,” he said with a shrug. “Pick three, it’ll be interesting, I promise. Then everything will go right back to normal. As if I’d never sat down.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She grabbed three randomly and handed them to him. He sighed and shook his head. “No sense of mysticism,” he said under his breath. He turned the card over. It depicted an upside-down image of two naked people standing under the sun. “The lovers...but its reversed.” He hummed and tapped his chin. “A lover has deceived you, been </span>
  <em>
    <span>unfaithful.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He clicked his tongue, fake sympathy on his face, though his eyes spoke of cruel amusement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And now for the present,” he said. He turned the card over. A tower was being struck by lightning while the panicked people inside, looked out the window. “Ah! Wonderful!” He said, clapping his hands together. “The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tower, </span>
  </em>
  <span>symbolizing danger, destruction, crisis, but also...liberation.” He leaned his chin against the heel of his palm. “Now aren’t you an interesting thing.” He winked and she looked away. “I’m curious when you were young, did you ever dream about adventure? Maybe some kind of hero’s journey.”   </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess,” she said with a shrug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes at her. “Now...for the future.” He flipped the card over, but it was completely blank. “Hmmm, how...</span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he fanned his face with the card, before handing it to her. “Now I wonder what you’ll make of </span>
  <em>
    <span>that.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before her eyes, a small prick of green started to glow from the center of the card. And it was getting bigger, and bigger. Until the glow consumed the entire card and it was all that she could see. And then everything went black. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>9:27 Dragon </b>
  <b>
    <br/>
  </b>
  <b>The Hinterlands </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emilia couldn’t breathe. She realized this was because her head was submerged in water. She sat up, gasping for air, and put a hand on her chest. She was soaking wet and shivering. She coughed and stood up, using a tall tree to support her.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” She asked, looking around her. No one was there to answer. And she also had no idea where she was. She stumbled backward from the bank of the river and turned around. She could find someone, she was sure. But she wouldn’t if she just around and waited. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She regretted that choice when the sun began to set. And it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>cold, wherever she was. Her teeth chattered together and every step she took, she thought she could feel shards of ice puncturing her legs. There was snow on the ground. Funny, she’d never seen snow for as long as she’d lived in southern California. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her vision swayed, and she cursed, falling to her knees. In the distance, she thought she saw firelight. “Help…” she whispered, falling face-first into the snow. The last thing she remembered before passing out </span>
  <em>
    <span>again, </span>
  </em>
  <span>was being picked up, by rough hands.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The next time, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she woke up, it was much warmer. The crackling of a fire near her was what stirred her as her senses slowly returned. She opened her eyes, blinking, and found herself looking at the ceiling of a cave. She was also wrapped in something soft, that felt suspiciously like fur. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Awake?” A soft voice asked. She turned her head to the side, and found a man, grinding up a paste in a mortar. His hair was long, tied up, and still hanging in the middle of his back. “You scared me there for a second,” he said. “Thought you wouldn’t make it through the night.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where am I?” She asked, her voice coming out in a dry rasp. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Currently, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’re in the cave I’ve inhabited for years. In the hills of the Hinterlands, far away from any town. But how did you manage to find yourself here?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She chuckled softly. “That’s a good question.” She sat up and groaned loudly when her entire body protested. “Who are you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well...that’s a bit complicated. But you can just call me Clint.” He set his work down to the side and held out his hand. “A pleasure, mysterious girl from the forest.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Emilia,” she corrected, and took his hand. “Nothing very mysterious about me at all.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s just agree to disagree,” he said. He turned to grab a bottle of red liquid, his hair falling to the side, to reveal a pair of pointed ears. Was he cosplaying? She turned back and handed her the bottle. “Ah,” he covered his ear absentmindedly. “Didn’t mean to offend your </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicate sensibilities.” </span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” She said instantly, holding her hands up. “Not at all, I just noticed is all, I’m sorry, I know it’s rude to stare-” she stopped her quick rambling when she noticed that his shoulders were shaking and he was covering his mouth. “You’re making fun of me,” she accused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, </span>
  </em>
  <span>my lady,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ass.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He coughed to cover his laugh. He tapped the bottle with his index finger. “Drink that. It’ll keep the fever down and the pain tolerance up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She uncorked it and smelled. It was almost minty. She shrugged and threw it back, her nose crinkling in disgust when it hit her tastebuds. She shook her head and handed the vile thing back. “Disgusting.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, it is,” he said with a shrug. “But you feel better already, don’t you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kind of,” she admitted. “So...is there like an event going on or something?” She asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” the man said slowly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then what’s with the costume?” She asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sure what you mean…” He looked at the potion. “Did I give you too much, perhaps?” He set the bottle aside. “Is there anyone I can contact to let them know you’re okay?” He asked her. “Where are you from?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Los Angles,” she said. “And you can call my friend Jamie, I can write her phone number down for you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is a phone?” He asked, looking at her with equal measurements of curiosity and concern. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know,” she said, holding her thumb and pinkie up to the side of her face. “Ring ring.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m still not…” He trailed off and shook his head. “Where is ‘Los Angles’? Is it in Antiva? Or perhaps a Circle of Magi?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes widened. “Where’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Antiva</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
  <em>
    <span>” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two of them looked at each other with wide eyes. “You must have hit your head rather hard, girl.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>guess,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she said, touching her temple. “Are those,” she pointed to his ears with a shaking hand. “Real?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked at her with surprise and laughed. “What, of course, they are.” He touched her forehead and frowned. “Still a little high. You should go back to sleep.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laid back down, her brain working overtime to process what was happening. Yet </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>be happening. The man at the bar, he must have been the one to blame. The card he handed her. Maybe it was Acid? And it absorbed through her skin? It would explain the glowing she saw before she passed out the first time. But it </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>explain why she’d almost drowned. Or why she was feeling so sick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man who was tending to her with a cool cloth couldn’t really be an elf. And what was all the nonsense he was spouting didn’t make any sense. Maybe she was in a coma, and her brain was making up weird shit to entertain her while she was going through it. So if that was the case, she’d just have to ride the wave until it was over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can see the thoughts racing through your head, child,” the man scolded her. “Go to </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep. </span>
  </em>
  <span>We can figure everything out when you’re feeling better.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe that wasn’t a bad idea. So for the third time, she lost consciousness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But this time, it didn’t last for long. One moment she was laying on the furs, and the next she was floating through a gray fog. She struggled to find something solid to put her feet on and found something that felt like ice. She slipped around until she regained her footing. “What the hell?” She whispered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She jumped when her voice echoed around her from every direction. Sometimes in varying levels of volume. “Stop!” She ordered and the sound stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. She balled her hands into fists and set out in a random direction, her footsteps accompanying her. “You know what? I’m getting real sick of winding up in strange places today.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A shame, really,” a vaguely familiar voice said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emilia screamed, jumping at least a foot in the air, and not coming back down. She hovered in the air, twisting around until she was face to face with the man from the bar, who gave her a dramatic bow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She snarled, lashing out at him with her nails. He jumped back, casually rising in the air. She growled in frustration when she couldn’t reach him. She moved in the air like she was swimming in water, but gave up when she still couldn’t reach him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled a card from inside his jacket pocket and turned the card around. “Three of wands...hmm,” he muttered, before putting it away. “So, how are you settling in?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fuck did you do to me?” She demanded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I pulled you from your boring life and gave you something better,” he said with a shrug. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>welcome.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck you!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! No need to be rude!” He put his hands on his hips and glided a bit further from her. “By the way, I gave you magic, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so make sure to be careful with that~” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She bolted upright and a loud bang to her left almost ruptured her eardrum. She turned and found a bush burning, and her eyes widened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her caretaker looked up from his book and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I take it you’ve had no formal education with your magic, then?” He asked. He waved his hand casually, and Emila watched in amazement when the fire simply faded away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shook her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, well that ends today,” he said, snapping the book shut. “If you’re going to be staying for any period of time, I’d prefer it if you didn’t blow my books apart when you wake up from nightmares.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” she said, her voice shaky. She honest to God couldn’t tell if any of it was really happening or if she had some kind of mental break down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Up with you then,” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He snorted when he saw her, but said nothing. He led her into the forest until they reached a clearing. He waved his hand and the trees produced what appeared to be a very long walking stick. He leaned down and grabbed a small black rock off the ground and attached it to the stick. She watched in amazement while it was formed.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He handed it to her. It felt so heavy in her hands. She held it close to her and looked up at Clint and who thinking hard. “It’s been </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite a while</span>
  </em>
  <span> since I last had to think about the basics of magical channeling.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How old are you?” She asked him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Old,” he answered with a smirk. “I want you to focus on anything in this clearing and try to throw fire toward it.” He showed her how to hold her staff and how to position her feet. “Within the very core of our being, we mages can feel the pull of the Fade, even when we are awake.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the Fade?” She asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By the gods, child,” he huffed. “Never mind that for now. Just focus. Feel the pull. Lock onto your target with your mind. And direct the flow of energy through the staff.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No surprise, it wasn’t that easy. She stood there for what must have been an hour before she moved, looking defeated toward Clint who was relaxing with his book. “I didn’t hear fire,” he said, not looking up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not working,” she told him, resting against her staff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I noticed,” he said, still not paying much attention. “Surely you didn’t think this would be easy?” He asked, a smile spreading over his face. He put his thumb between the pages and closed the book. “Let me see your form,” he ordered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes but did as she was told. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, you’ve got that right, at least.” He observed her for a few more seconds. “It’s just you and your target. Let the rest of the world fade away from a few minutes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emilia focused on a large rock. She pictured the stupid thing bursting into a million little pieces. She felt the pull on her core and couldn’t take it back. There was a bang and she was thrown off her feet by the force. She looked up and saw the rock was super dead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good!” Clint said, jumping to his feet. “Well…” he shrugged. He walked over and helped her off the ground. “Now...you’ll learn how to stay on your feet. Destruction is easy, but you still need to be in control of it the entire time. Or you risk injury to yourself. As you’ve seen in a small form.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was breathing heavily. She’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>managed to wreck that poor rock’s shit, with her </span>
  <em>
    <span>mind! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Her hands were shaking. Never in a thousand years could she have pictured her doing something like that. Never thought it was possible. She realized that Clint was talking to her, when he waved his hand in front of her face. “What?” She asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He huffed and rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible,” he said. “Alright, I think that’s enough magic for today. I have something else I can teach you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He guided her back to the cave and directed her to sit in a chair at the table. He laid a few plants in front of her. “I’ll show you how to make potions. Healing happens to my specialty.” He handed her a knife and gestured towards the herbs. “You’ll take elf root and two parts dawn lotus. Cut the leaves and put the stems to the side. Then you mix them together. Add water, let it sit for a few days, shaking vigorously for an hour once a day. Then bam, healing potion.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She got to work, taking the critiques she was given when Clint gave them to her. It was easy work, when it came right down to it. Something she could do without thinking too hard about it, letting her mind wander. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come, child, let’s go get ourselves something to eat,” he said, holding out his hand for her to follow him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop calling me that,” she said. “I’m not a child.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh but of course, ten is a very mature age, I’m sure,” he said with a slight smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” She asked, sitting up straighter. “Wait...can I have a mirror, please?” She asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me see if I have one,” he said. He dug around in a chest he had propped against the wall. He pulled one out and handed it to her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her mouth fell open when she saw her reflection. Chubby cheeks greeted her. She looked as if the clock had turned back ten years. She was a little kid again. Her brown hair hung around her in delicate curls and her eyes were wide. She looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>like she did when she was in the fifth grade. She looked so similar that she was surprised she didn’t have a Lisa Frank binder thrown somewhere around her. “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She cursed loudly, thrusting the mirror back in the elven man’s hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you unaware?” He asked with a teasing smile. “Come, an empty stomach won’t do you any good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, he was right on that front. She sat with her arms crossed over her chest at the table, pouting. This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>bullshit. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She should have brained that son of a bitch from the bar the second he put his hands on her. She should have kicked his stupid teeth in and bit his hand off. But she </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>and now she was having some kind of weird coma dream. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clint put a bowl of stew in front of her and handed her a wooden spoon. She took it and thanked him quietly. She took a bite, and her eyes widened. It was kind of the best thing she’d ever tasted. “This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She said, going in for another bite. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he said, sitting across from her with his own meal. “It helps that I added a bit of magic to keep it from spoiling.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two of them ate quietly until they were both finished. Clint stacked the bowls up and pushed them towards Emilia. “You can do the dishes tonight,” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gave him a blank look but took them with no verbal complaints. There was a bucket of water that he pointed toward and she got to work, washing them in the soapy water. When she was finished, she turned around and found her host gazing absently at the blue sky, a wistful look on his face. He turned when he sensed her looking at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you running from the Templars, child?” He asked her. “Because of your magic?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” she told him. “I’m not really sure how I got here, truth be told.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hummed and looked away. “I have lived here on my own for many decades. I wouldn’t mind if you stayed. If you want to, I mean.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She blinked, not quite sure what to say. Eventually, she smiled. Clint was lonely, she understood that. And for as long as her coma dream continued, she wouldn’t mind keeping him company. “I’d like that,” she said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s good,” he said. “I should go to the Dalish camp nearby and trade a few things. You’ll need appropriate clothing at the least. Would you like to come?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure!” She bounced up, and suddenly noticed how much taller everything around her was. Maybe she didn’t notice at first, because she hadn’t been expecting to be four feet tall ever again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stood and grabbed a cloak off a hook, pulling it around his shoulders. He looked down at her, before handing her the one next to it. It was far too long for her, but with a wave of his hand, it shrunk to fit her perfectly. He held his hand out for her, and she took it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He led her from the cave, careful not to walk too quickly so she could keep up. While they walked, she took in the beautiful countryside. The rolling hills behind them seemed to make their cave fit into a small valley. There were many beautiful flowers too. A few, Clint stopped to pick. A few, and put them in the bag slung over his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were several strange animals the scurried past them. A hairless pig-like creature. A small brown fox. Rams </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And as they entered deeper into the woods, she started to notice white deer, that would look at them hesitantly, but wouldn’t hop away. Emilia watched with wide eyes when Clint reached up and gently pet the snout of one of the dear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“These are Halla, child,” he said, gesturing toward the white deer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re kind of cute,” she said, watching one walking up to them. “Hey,” she greeted one, but not touching it. It snorted at her before trotting off to join its fellows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, when we get to the camp, I want you to stay close to me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” she shrugged. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They walked past a grouping of trees, and Emilia looked around curiously at the people who bustled about. Elves watched them, their eyes almost too big for their faces. Strange tattoos etched on the faces of all the adults. Clint reached up and let his hood fall and the people around them relaxed instantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An older elf walked up to them, a smile on his face. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Vhalla, hahren</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he said, bowing his head for just a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“On itha ma sal, Uralas'falon</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Clint said, bowing back. “I need to trade for a few things today if that’s alright with you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, of course,” he said. His smile shifted to something a bit nervous. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ahnsul ema ma usul'ema shemlem da’lan i ma?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose that </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>a bit strange,” he said. “You’ve no need to fear, Keeper, this is my apprentice.” Clint pushed Emilia in front of him, pulling her hood from her face. “Don’t be rude, dear, introduce yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emilia suddenly felt awkward with the older elven man’s eyes on her. She shifted from foot to foot. “Hello,” she said. “My name is Emilia Williams, it’s very nice to meet you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You as well,” he said, but his voice was strained and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Emilia looked back at Clint, who was totally relaxed. “Fan’an has a few new items ready for trade.” He gestured toward another elven man, who was </span>
  <em>
    <span>also </span>
  </em>
  <span>watching Emilia with mistrust in his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Clint bowed his head, taking Emilia by the hand and leading her over to the man. The man straightened his spine, and greeted Clint, but paid no attention to Emilia. Which kind of annoyed her, but she knew better than to rock the boat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you happen to have anything that would fit my apprentice? I’d rather she didn’t run around in my clothes all the time,” Clint said, gesturing toward her. Her rolled-up pant legs, and pushed back shirt sleeves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A bit,” he said. He pulled out a few rolls of clothes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fantastic,” Clint said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And what have </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>brought for me, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hahren</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” The man asked with a smirk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stingy,” Clint huffed, before letting go of Emilia to dig in his bag. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emilia took the opportunity to look around. Everyone had their eyes on her, so it wasn’t like they could accuse her of anything. She looked at the weird boat wagons and looked up at their red sails. She knew better than to touch what didn’t belong to her in a place where she was obviously mistrusted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She yelped when she was suddenly yanked back by her hair. She looked up at the white deer that looked at her without pity or remorse in its brown eyes while it munched on her hair. It pulled her over with a flick of its head and she landed in the mud, while it dragged her away, flicking its head around, trying to eat her hair right off her head. “Please stop,” she begged quietly. It huffed at her and dragged her through the mud by her hair, while the elves in the camp watched. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?!” Clint demanded when he saw her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m kind of just the passenger in this exchange,” she told him when the halla dragged her past him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One of the elven women broke through the line and gently took the halla by the horns. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Da’masa</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>! </span>
  </em>
  <span>NO!” She said. She put her hands between the halla’s teeth and it finally let go of Emilia’s hair to go scamper off with its friends. The elven woman knelt down and helped her to her feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi, you alright, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Halla’math</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” An elven man asked Emilia, scrapping some of the mud off of her back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hush, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Athras!” The woman said, glaring at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Emilia said with a sigh. “Thank you for your help, ma’am,” she said, bowing to the elven woman. “And also for your concern, sir,” she said, nodding to the elven man. Then she walked over to Clint and stood by him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” he said, trying to hide his smile. “When I tell you to stay next to me, what are you going to do?” He asked, bending over and putting his hands on his hips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay next to you,” she said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” he laughed. He rested a hand on top of her head. “I’ve got your new clothes. And we’ve been invited by the Keeper to stay for the night. Make sure to be polite.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure thing, boss,” she said with a thumbs up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here you are,” the elf called Fan’an said, handing over a bundle of clothes. “And something for you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Halla’math,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he said. He handed Emilia a small pastry. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she said. She split it in half and handed part of it to Clint. Clint guided her where a ring of snickering elves were sat in a circle around a fire pit. Emilia sat on his left-hand side and looked into the flames with a blank expression. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Should we cut your hair?” Clint asked. “So that doesn’t happen again?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare,” she said, holding a fist full of her hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were plates of food passed around at some later point. There was a piece of flatbread and a slice of tender meat. There were also several root vegetables. There were also no forks handed out, so Emilia ate it with her hands like everyone else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Across the fire, a woman was talking with her friends, animatedly about hunting the animal they were currently eating. “A mighty little bastard,” she said, setting her tray down. She ripped into the meat with her teeth and swallowed it. “It had tusks and claws sharper than any sword you’d ever see. It came at me, jumping from the trees. But I blocked him with my spear. And it went like that for what felt like hours. Back and forth. Until he made a mistake and I speared him through the heart.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so full of shit, that it’s coming out your ears,” one of the men next to Clint said. “Rams don’t have claws.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No it’s true! I swear it!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Halla shit,” someone else said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey fuck you!” She looked at Emilia and smirked. “You believe me, don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>Halla’math? </span>
  </em>
  <span>You know how vicious some creatures can be, don’tcha?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emilia leveled her with the coldest look she could manage with her pudgy face. She took a bite of her bread. “I think you’re full of shit too,” she said. “Rams also can’t climb trees.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman groaned while a few other hunters laughed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’d you find this kid, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hahren</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” One woman asked, smacking Emilia on the back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s still a mystery,” Clint said with a shrug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about your parents, kid? They don’t mind you wandering the wilderness with elves?” A man across the fire asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine, I don’t have parents,” she said. She held the rest of her food out to Clint. “Want the rest? I’m full.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, thanks,” he said. He took the plate from her and ate the rest of her meat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emilia noticed that it had gotten kind of awkward around the fire. Their dinner companions looking at each other, not sure what to say. Emilia shrugged it off and made patterns in the dirt with her feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...am telling the truth about the ram, though,” the woman said after a long pause. Everyone around the fire groaned. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations <br/>1. Vhalla, hahren: Welcome elder </p>
<p>2. On itha ma sal, Uralas'falon: Good to see you again, Keeper </p>
<p>3. Ahnsul ema ma usul'ema shemlem da’lan i ma?: Why have you brought a human child with you? </p>
<p>4. Da’masa: Little ass </p>
<p>5. Halla’math: Halla food</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Two: Cold Days In Spring Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Posting early this week because I won't be able to post this Sunday. Have a nice day :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>9:28 Dragon</b> <b><br/>
</b> <b>The Hinterlands </b></p><p>A year came and went in almost the blink of an eye. Emilia was coming along very well in her magic training. Most days were spent training and making potions. When things were slow, Clint would teach her history, maths, languages. He taught her how to read the strange characters that were printed in the books around Thedas. But sometimes, he let her rest and do whatever she wanted for the day. Which usually turned out to be a whole lot of nothing. </p><p>It was on one of these slow days, that Clint decided they were going to make a trip into a human village to sell some of the potions they’d been making. Emilia was a bit nervous. The Dalish always spoke ill of them, and how they treated elves, but Clint assured her that if anyone tried to hurt him he could turn them to dust with a snap of his finger. </p><p>So on they went to Redcliffe village. The people living there all walked like they had somewhere important to be. Farmers were plowing the fields, merchants were trying to sell their wares to every person who passed, and soldiers marched through the town. All the buildings were made from stone and wood, but mostly wood. </p><p>It also smelled <em>really </em>bad in some parts of the village. It was like walking into a cloud of filth. “What the hell is <em>that</em>?” Emilia asked Clint when they passed another pocket of the stench. </p><p>“Some humans still haven figured out where to leave their shit,” he said with a smirk. “Especially here in Ferelden.”     </p><p>“That’s <em>disgusting,” </em>she spat, covering her nose. </p><p>“It is, isn’t it?” He pulled her away from the smell. “I’m glad I stumbled upon the only human in Thedas who knows how to take a bath.” </p><p>The stopped by a round hut, and Clint knocked on the door. An elven woman opened the door and stepped back when she saw who was at the door. "Fancy seeing you here," she said with a wink. She looked at Emilia and frowned, giving Clint a concerned shake of her head. "And who might you be?" She asked, leaning down. </p><p>"Emilia," she said quietly. She looked up at Clint and pulled on his cloak. "Can I go look around the town?" She asked. "I promise I won't go very far." </p><p>"Stay on the docks," he ordered her. </p><p>She saluted him and wandered off. She turned around and saw the elven woman grab Clint by the front of his shirt and pull him into the hut and slam the door behind them. "Oh, sick," she said, scrunching up her nose. At the docks, fishermen were throwing their nets out, and everyone seemed content to ignore her while she explored. There were a few children who gave her odd looks but she didn't want to play with them so she turned away whenever one would try and get close to her. She also didn't have any money, so she couldn't even buy the fresh smoked fish treats that people kept offering her. </p><p>Redcliffe village was supposed to have been the largest settlement in Ferelden, but it all seemed so small when she compared it to her home. The largest building in the whole town was some kind of church. She looked back over to the healing hut, where the door was still shut tight and decided she'd go poke around some more. She left the docks and raced up the stone steps to the stone building. She had to admit that it was beautiful. It's stain glass windows even cast their colors around the trees around it. </p><p>There was a woman in red and white robes who smiled when she saw Emilia coming up the steps. "Good morning, child," she said. "Would you like to come in and hear today's service?" She asked. </p><p>"Maybe..." Emilia wasn't sure. "What is this place?" She asked. </p><p>The woman seemed fairly confused but her smile never faltered. "This is Redcliffe's Chantry." </p><p>Emilia assumed that was a church. "I think I'm okay for today, but thank you for the offer," she said. She turned to scuttle back to the docks before Clint caught her. </p><p>"A moment, child," the woman said, reaching a hand toward Emilia who jerked back. The woman folded her hands in front of her. "Where are your parents?" She asked. </p><p>"They're dead," she answered simply. That'd been what everyone assumed anyway. And it wasn't like Emilia could reach them from the ass-end of Thedas. "I'm here with my teacher, we're selling healing potions." </p><p>"That's very nice of you. But where is your teacher?" She asked. </p><p>"He's talking to the healer. I just wanted to explore the village, because I've never been here before." </p><p>"Isn't he worried about you? It's a little irresponsible to leave a little girl all by herself," the woman said with a pleasant smile. </p><p>She swallowed the aggravation she felt bubbling in her throat. "Well...he did tell me to stay by the docks. But I didn't think it would be a big deal."  </p><p>"Well I think your teacher would feel much better if people were watching you, wouldn't he?" She asked. "How about I send someone to the healer's hut to tell your teacher where you are and you come with me? I'm sure you'll like the Chant of Light." </p><p>This was not a battle she was going to win. She managed to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes at the woman. Emilia knew she wasn't <em>trying </em>to be annoying. "Yes ma'am, please let him know where I am," she said. </p><p>"Of course," the woman said. She held her hand out to Emilia who took it and followed her into the building. People were kneeling in prayer and at the pulpit, a woman was reading from a scroll. "Here, take a seat," the woman said. She helped Emilia into a wooden pew that was almost empty. </p><p>"Can I sit in the back?" Emilia asked. </p><p>"No," the woman said sternly. "That's where the <em>elves </em>sit. You don't want to be by the elves, do you?" She asked. </p><p>Emilia sighed and looked straight ahead. The woman seemed satisfied with herself and left her alone. She went and whispered in the ear of a man who nodded and left the church. She was trying not to listen to the priest who was lecturing them about their sins. But some of it got through her ears. </p><p>"As we know," the priest said. "Magic was meant to <em>serve </em>man and never to rule over him." There was a scattering of muttered agreement. "Which is why we must be vigilant whenever mages appear among us. The Circle of Magi takes those mages who are loyal to the Maker and gives them a place where they can do as the Maker always intended, and to serve us. But those vile apostates who fight against the will of the Maker must be put to the sword." She paused and looked around the room. "A free mage is a danger to every person around them. And a blight in the Maker's eyes." </p><p>Emilia suddenly got the feeling that she should be <em>anywhere </em>else right at that moment. But she stayed where she was. The last thing she needed was someone to get suspicious of her. So she was quite and trying not to panic while the priest continued telling her congregation to snitch on their neighbors if they thought they were hiding a mage. </p><p>"Some people, in their kind hearts, are led astray by the wicked mages who take advantage of their good nature," she said. "These people are too soft-hearted to see clearly. So do not hate these people, my children. Instead, you should despise the evil creatures who deceive them. And do not hate the mother who tries to hide her mage child. Instead, hate the child. Because he has turned his mother's natural love for him against her. </p><p>"Mages are <em>weak!" </em>She smacked her hand against the pulpit. "They are slaves to the demons of their dreams. Every mage who is not guarded and protected by the Templars <em>will </em>fall and become abominations. And turn your eyes to the mages who subjugate others in Tevinter. See how they use blood magic, sacrificing children to their gods, for more power. That is what all mages will become if they are left unchecked."</p><p>On and on it went. What evil, disgusting, wicked monsters mages were unless they were being held captive in the Circles. Emilia sat in her seat, begging her magic, not to suddenly burst from her body. She didn't want to imagine what would happen to her. The people in the church were so worked up, they might kill her before the Templars had the chance to haul her off. So she slipped down in her pew, trying not to draw any attention to herself. </p><p>When the service was finished she got out of her seat and got the hell out of there. Clint was standing by the building looking very impatient. Before he could open his mouth she threw her arms around him and hid her face. "I want to go home. Right now."  </p><p>"Of course, child," he said. He took her by the hand and the two of them walked out of the village. When it was far enough behind them, Emilia let her shoulders relax. "What happened?" Clint asked. </p><p>"The priest was saying a bunch of stuff about mages," she answered. "She said that mages like us deserve to die because we're evil." She rubbed her face with her fist. She refused to cry because of them. </p><p>He sighed deeply from inside his chest. He had the two of them sit down on a rock and put his pack down. "I used to live in a place where they had very similar views. Not about magic, but reverence to gods. All who disobeyed were evil monsters who should be-and often <em>were-</em>cut down without mercy. Those people didn't deserve death and neither do the mages who simply want to live in peace. All people have the potential in them for both good and evil. It's up to us to decide what we do. An accident of birth does not determine if you are good or bad. Do you understand, Emilia?" He asked. His voice was soft. He laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. </p><p>"Yeah, I understand," she said. </p><p>"Good." He tapped her back and ushered her up. </p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>9:29 </strong>
</p><p>Another year flew by before Emilia finally accepted that she probably wasn't ever going home. She sat with a few of the Dalish kids around her age and they were making flower crowns while Clint bartered with Fan'an. They didn't stick around the whole year, usually, they were packed up and gone by the first day of summer, so Emilia liked to spend as much time with them as she could. </p><p><em>"Halla'math," </em>one of the children called to her. "Come take a look at this," she said. She held out a perfectly round pink stone. It was beautiful. "My <em>mama </em>told me that in the old days, the elves used to give things like this to their friends." </p><p>"And you're giving it to me?" </p><p>"Yeah! I even shaped it myself," she said proudly. She put it in Emilia's hand and closed her fingers around it. "Because we're friends, and I don't ever want you to forget me." </p><p>Emilia felt the warmth blooming bright on both her face and in her heart. She held the rock against her chest. "Thank you, Ashara," she said. </p><p>"Hey!" Another child said. A small boy of about five. "I want to give <em>Halla'math </em>something too!" He said. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a dead bug, placing it on top of her fingers, where they were curled over the stone. He tried not to freak out as it wriggled around on her skin. </p><p>Before she knew it, all the Dalish children were giving her small rocks or particularly twisty sticks. Or flowers. She was blinking very rapidly by the time they were finished, her arms full of their gifts, and she felt her eyes burning. "Thank you, all of you," she said, sniffing. </p><p>"Stop crying," Ashara said, her own eyes filled with tears. </p><p>"You're the one who's crying, <em>felasil," </em>she said in between sniffles. </p><p>The two of them hugged each other tightly and Emilia knew that for as long as she lived, she would never let the stone go. It was the perfect shape to wrap with a leather cord and wear around on her neck. When they pulled away, several adults were watching them and giggling. Because by that point, they were all crying. </p><p>"Emilia," Clint called from the edge of the camp. "It's time for us to go." </p><p>"Can we stay just a <em>little </em>longer?" She asked, pulling from her friend's embrace.</p><p>"Sorry, but there are a few things we need to attend to at home. We can come back in a few days." </p><p>Emilia was disappointed but was never the child that whined when she was told no. She sighed and briskly went to his side, waving goodbye to the elves that were there to see them off. And up the hill they went, passing the time without talking. Emilia wanted to chase a nug or two around but could see from the way Clint walked, that something was on his mind.</p><p>When they were home, he hung up his bag and sat in his chair with a huff. Emilia sat across from him and watched him. He didn't seem to notice. "What's wrong?" She asked. </p><p>He jumped and snapped his head toward her. "Oh...nothing," he said with a smile. "I'm just lost in the past, is all." </p><p>"You can tell me, you know," she said, leaning back in her chair. "I can handle it and I think you need someone to listen." </p><p>"You're twelve," he pointed out. </p><p>"Yeah, and you're my roommate. What's your point?" </p><p>He drummed his fingers against the table. He cleared his throat. "I was a slave," he said. “It was many ages ago,” he assured her. “The wounds don’t hurt me like they used to. I can look back at my mistreatment, and feel nothing more than a twinge of pain.”</p><p>Emilia's eyes widened. "In Tevinter?" She asked. </p><p>"No...Arlathan." </p><p>Emilia was confused. "But-" </p><p>"Yes, I wasn't sure how to tell you. I am a man who has seen countless ages pass and has lived them all. I was born in Arlathan three thousand years before it fell and my name was once Emmithas. I was not...treated well. I am very beautiful, as you can see,” he smirked at her and she nodded, trying to keep her face serious for him. “I was a personal slave to one of the gods. So many people told me what an <em>honor </em>it was to serve him. But they failed to realize what a sadistic narcissist he was. They <em>all </em>were.” His face twisted up for a moment before relaxing.</p><p>“My master was called Falon’din. The god of death. He would lead his armies to destroy people, so their blood could be dedicated to him. And the survivors were branded and given to his loyal followers. But that was honestly what one could expect of any of the gods. </p><p>“My master grew too vain and brutal for even Andruil to stomach, however. I’ve heard it told that Mythal, his <em>mother</em>, rallied them against him. They fought against him and the continent was once again plagued by civil war. He was captured and locked in one of Mythal’s temples. I accompanied him, as I had been his favorite slave.</p><p>“Eventually, my master convinced the others that Mythal was plotting against them and they murdered her in that very temple to free him. That was what sealed their fates. Fen’Harel, the youngest of Mythal’s children rebelled against them. He freed slaves by the thousands. I’m not sure what happened next. My master lost his mind and locked me away in a dreamless sleep. I woke a year after the Veil was created. I was one of the few that Fen'Harel could not save. And the rest, as they say, is history.” </p><p>He ran his fingers along an old scar and smiled. "I took a knife to my flesh and I had never felt so liberated." </p><p>"I'm sorry that happened to you, Clint," she said.</p><p>“I’m not,” he told her. “It made me the man I am today. And today, here I stand under the sun, while my master and his entire awful family are gone. Perhaps it’s wishful thinking to hope that they’re <em>dead, </em>but wherever they are now, they can’t hurt me or anyone else ever again.” He smirked. “And the best revenge is doing better, wouldn’t you agree, Emilia?" </p><p>She smiled and reached across the table, grabbing his hand. "Yeah," she said with a smile. He squeezed her hand back and rubbed his thumb over the top. "But how old <em>are </em>you?" She asked. </p><p>"Ah, seven thousand, give or take." He shrugged. "I lost count a very long time ago." </p><p>"Wow...you<em> are</em> an old man," she said. </p><p>"I am." He stood up and grabbed a book from the case and placed it down on the table. "And also, an old man who wants you to focus on your studies." </p><p>She groaned and grabbed the book, turning it over. Just an Orlisian history book. "So now that I know, will you teach me more about ancient elves?" She asked. </p><p>"Sure," he said, resting his hand on her head. </p>
<hr/><p>Emilia had finally gotten her hands on a piece of leather thin enough to wrap the stone in. On one side, Ashara's name was written, and on the other was the nickname she'd gained from the Dalish. <em>Halla'math. </em>Clint showed her how to etch a hole in it, and loop it through. So It sat against her chest, a heavy weight on her shoulders, but it made her happy. </p><p>She'd also kept the other gifts the children had given her, tucked away in a jar in her bag. Everything in their home was nice and tidy. Their beds on opposite sides of the cave. A hearth and a table against the wall. It felt like a real house, which she figured Clint must have done with magic. </p><p>She was flipping through a new book. Something that Clint had picked up for her when he went on a walkabout in Orlais. He'd been 'soul searching' he'd said, and he'd stopped by a book shop. <em>The Viper's Nest</em> by Varric Tethras. It was thrilling. She'd finished it the same night he'd given it to her. And then she read it again the next night. Now she was working on her third read. </p><p>Clint was drinking, something he didn't do often, but he deserved a break just like everyone else. He was singing a song in elven quietly to himself, rocking side to side in his chair. </p><p>"Do I need to help you get to bed?" She asked. </p><p>"Nope!" He said, raising the bottle. "<em>Uth'shiral mi'nas'sal'in elvarel i'tor  a falon vira i em,</em>"  </p><p>"An eternal journey felt longer without a friend to walk beside me?" She looked at him and tilted her head to the side. </p><p>"C'mere," he said, gesturing to her with his hand. She walked closer and he rested his hand on her head and messed her hair up. "I never had kids. Is this what having kids feels like? Are you my kid now?" He asked her. </p><p>"I...I...maybe? I'm not sure. I was never close to my parents." </p><p>"I'm your parent now, got it?" </p><p>She snorted. "You're drunk," she said. </p><p>"Yes! I am <em>very </em>drunk, but I mean it. You're my kid and I am your dad." </p><p>She looked at him for a few seconds. "Okay, you're my dad," she said. "You're not allowed to take it back when you're sober though." </p><p>"Take it back?" He asked, looking down at her. "Why would I take it back?" </p><p>"Don't worry about it," she told him. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1. <em>Halla'math</em> : Halla food </p><p>2. <em>felasil</em> : fool/idiot</p><p>3. <em>Uth'shiral mi'nas'sal'in elvarel i'tor  a falon vira i em</em> : An eternal journey felt longer without a friend to walk beside me</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter Three: They Go Where The Wind Blows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Sunday :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>9:32<br/>
Antiva </strong>
</p><p>Everyone in Ferelden lost someone during the Blight. And Emilia was very grateful that while clan Tillahnnen suffered losses, there were still many survivors. She was most grateful that her best friend had survived. Her name etched into Emilia's most prized possession. It had only been a year, but the Hero of Ferelden's name was still on everyone's tongue. She'd saved the continent before the blight reached beyond the borders of Ferelden, but afterward, she disappeared. But she hadn't been fast enough to save many of her friends. </p><p>"Are you ready to leave, da'lan?" Clint asked, ducking his head into the room she was using at the inn. He saw her, tracing her fingers over the names, and frowned. "I know it hurts," he said. "But so long as we remember them, they are never truly lost to us."  </p><p>She nodded and tucked it under her shirt. She grabbed her bag from the table. "I'm ready." </p><p>"Alright, the carriage is waiting for us." </p><p>"Traveling in style?" She asked with a smirk. </p><p>"You bet, all the way back to Ferelden." </p><p>"Are we going back to our old home?" She asked. </p><p>He shook his head. "It's not there anymore." He put his hand on her back and escorted her out of the room. "My home will always be with you, my child." </p><p>"Nerd," she said, feeling her cheeks flush. </p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>9:33 <br/>
Frelden </strong>
</p><p>Two figures in hoods ran through the forest as fast as their feet would take them, weaving through the trees, where horses wouldn't be able to follow. Behind them, they could hear the heavy boots of their pursuers. They were shouting toward the figures, demanding they stop. The taller of the two figures was holding the other by the wrist, almost dragging her through the forest in his frenzy to escape. </p><p>"We have to fight!" The girl shouted at him. "They'll catch up!" </p><p>"I know!" He yelled back through gasps of breath. "But it's about choosing your battleground. We need an advantage! Make them think they have us trapped!" </p><p>They passed through the tree line and found themselves standing next to a fast rushing river. They both stopped and pulled their staffs off their backs. Clint cast a barrier over them both and Emilia shot a simple lightning cage at their pursuers when they broke through the line. The first Templar whose metal boot passed the safe line was electrocuted, body jerking around until the cage dissipated and he fell to the ground smoking. </p><p>One Templar threw a Smite toward Emilia, but Clint blocked it with a forward barrier that sizzled and died as soon as it was touched. The remaining three Templars drew their sword and rushed them, screaming a battle cry. Emilia twirled the staff over her head and slammed it into the ground. She used the magic energy to push three fire glyphs by their feet, but they were smarter than they looked, dodging out of the way. </p><p>The female Templar reached Emilia first, trying to strike her with an overhead swing of her sword, twisted victory on her face. Emilia blocked her with her staff and parried the blow, striking the across the face with the end of the staff and sending her helmet sailing off her head. Emilia blasted her in the chest with shards of ice, wincing when blood spouted from her throat when one, unfortunately, place shard pierced her neck.   </p><p>When Emilia deemed that she was safe she turned her head and saw Clint was locked in battle with the other two Templars. She couldn't help but admire the raw power he could throw with a casual flick of his hand or a simple wave of his staff. The ground underneath one Templar sifted and threw him high in the air, and a blast of lightning ended his life. He landed in the river, carried off by the current. Emilia closed ranks with Clint and held her staff threateningly toward the last of the Templars. </p><p>He couldn't have much older than she was, but the hate that burned in his eyes told her that he was a lost cause. There would be no reasoning with him. Kill or be killed. But Clint, ever the softhearted one, lowered his staff. "Walk away," he said coldly. Emilia looked up at him in surprise. The boy lowered his sword arm his chest rising up and down rapidly. Clint smiled and nodded his head to the boy. "Smart kid."   </p><p>Emilia saw it a second before Clint did. The Templar's muscles tightened and he swung his sword in an arch. Striking across Clint's chest and kicking him in the stomach. Emilia screamed in rage but he thrust his hand out and blinding pain consumed Emilia's entire body. She screamed loud enough to hurt her ears. Clint was on his back and wasn't moving. Emilia tried to call his name, but it was too hard to say anything coherent. </p><p>The boy put his sword in its holster and pulled a length of rope from his side. He shoved his metal boot between Emilia's shoulder blades, digging his heal into her skin. "Fucking <em>bitch," </em>he spat at her. He roughly grabbed her hands and put them behind her back, trying them together. She wanted to scream and curse him with her last breath, but the Smite made every movement painful. There was a rustle behind her and the Templar fell sideways. </p><p>Clint was next to her in a second, cutting the ropes off her wrists and pulling her into his arms. It was a little awkward for him, her limbs were much longer than they used to be, but he managed. He stood up and ran at the river. Magic on his feet made it simple to run on the water. Over his shoulder, Emilia could see that the Templar and his head had been separated.</p><p>When they were back in the little hideout he-almost-carelessly threw her down on her bed. He threw the cabinet door open and grabbed two healing potions from the top shelf. He uncorked one and threw it back, swallowing it like a man who hadn't had water for days. Then he walked over to her and gently opened her lips, pouring the other down her throat. She started to feel better just a few minutes later. "We need to leave," he said, already grabbing their bags. </p><p>"How did they even find us?" Emilia asked, slowly sitting up in her bed. </p><p>"The healer in Redcliffe," he said. He was looking through his books, debating which mattered. In the end, he settled for his journal but left the rest. "She wanted me to marry her and she wanted me to...well it doesn't matter what she wanted. She said if I didn't do what she wanted, she'd tell the Templars that we were apostates. And here I thought she was bluffing." He laughed and shook his head. He balled his hands into fists and angrily slammed his hands down on the table before grabbing a chair by the back and throwing it against the shack."</p><p>"What a bitch," Emilia said weakly. "Sorry," she corrected herself. "I know you cared about her." </p><p>"I care about you more." He knelt and picked the chair up.  His hands tightened on the back of it and he looked down at his hands that were turning white. "We're leaving tonight so rest, my child," he said. </p><p>She leaned back in the bed and closed her eyes. She didn't think she could fall asleep with her heart still hammering in her chest and adrenalin pumping through her blood. But it was still relaxing to lay somewhere soft and know that she was safe. She could hear Clint moving around the shack, picking up anything he thought would be necessary. Most of their things would stay behind. Maybe they could come back to the shack in a few years, but by then it would have been picked clean by scavengers. Which was actually how <em>they </em>managed to fill their shack up with furniture. The circle of Apostate hobo life.</p><p>She wished it could be different. She hoped that a whole new world wouldn't have been so narrow-minded about magic. Her world had once burned people to death because of religious fanaticism. And it seemed that Thedas was much the same when it came right down to it. Those Templars <em>would </em>have killed them for resisting. Or dragged them back to Circle and made them Tranquil. They were both too old to be made 'acceptable' by the standards of Andraste's bootlickers. </p><p>Sometimes, Emilia wondered if Andraste would have been as horrified by her followers as Jesus would have been at the racist Chrispy Christians that used his name. Or maybe not. Maybe it didn't matter, because she was a thousand years dead. For all anyone knew, she could have been lying about the angry pouting child in the sky who wanted down her pants. All Emilia cared to know, was that her followers used her message to oppress elves and to grind mages under their boots. The power-hungry would always <em>hunger </em>for power. On Earth and in Thedas. </p><p>A hand on her shoulder a few hours later told her that it was time to go. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed her pack from Clint. "Let's go," she said. </p><p>"I'm sorry that I can't provide a stable home for you," Clint said, not meeting her eyes. </p><p>She grabbed his hand tightly. "My home will always be with you," she said firmly. "<em>But, </em>I can't promise that if I ever see that trick ass bitch again I won't immediately throw hands with her."</p><p>He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "You say...the <em>strangest </em>things."</p><p>She shrugged. "You know what I mean." </p><p>"I <em>do, </em>actually."  </p>
<hr/><p><strong>9:35 <br/>
</strong> <strong>Along The Western Coast </strong></p><p>"Sometimes, you gotta wonder why we work so hard," Emilia said, grabbing the net out of the water, and dumping the fish into the boat. The young man she was working with nodded, and immediately started cutting them up. "I mean," she said, propping herself against the mast. "We work, so a noble can eat. But our labor and all of our money go towards them anyway. But take me and you for instance." She pointed between them. "We spend twelve hours out here six days of the week. But we still have to <em>buy </em>the fish we catch in the market." </p><p>He stopped his fish carving and looked at her tiredly. "Well, what's your solution, then?" He asked. </p><p>"We, the working class, should rise and rip down the bourgeoisie and seize the means of protection. It's fucked up that we do one-hundred percent of the work, and they own ninety-nine percent of the wealth. Especially here in Orlais." </p><p>"Careful who hears you say that," he warned, throwing a finished fish into the large bucket. "They might chop your head off." </p><p>"Well <em>maybe, </em>we should chop <em>their </em>heads off first," she hissed back, grabbing her fish and knife. "This is bullshit. Absolute nugshit. The empress sits her lazy ass on the throne and we're all supposed to applaud her for it."</p><p>He hummed noncommittally. "You doing anything later tonight?" He asked. </p><p>"Not really," she said with a shrug. "Why?" </p><p>"I have some friends I want you to meet," he said. </p><p>"Sure. I just have to run home and tell my father where I'll be." </p><p>"Meet me at the Dragon's Tooth at first bell," he said. </p><p>She scrunched her eyebrows together. Weird. Really weird. She'd need to tell Clint that she thought it was weird, and to come to rescue her if she wasn't back by the third bell. If they were trying to kidnap her or something, he'd be able to track her. "You got it," she said, flicking fish guts off the side of the ship. </p><p>It was hours later that Emilia walked through the low-class part of town. Where the poor stayed and died. She lived outside the city with Clint. An elf wouldn't be welcome. So they built their home where they wouldn't be bothered. As long as they paid their taxes, anyway. The night was dangerous if you walked alone, but she carried herself like a woman who knew what she was doing. So she was left alone from the dangerous-looking people who hung around dark corners. </p><p>The Dragon's Tooth was a seedy run-down shit hole where the working men and women around the city drank their aches and pains away with warm ale and subpar food. And Emilia felt right at home. She saw her fishing partner propped against the wall, nursing his drink with a blank stare. He looked up when she sat across from him. "Where are your friends?" She asked. </p><p>"They're here," he said. "But I have some questions for you, while we wait." </p><p>"Sure," she said with a shrug. </p><p>"Were you serious, about what you said about nobility?" He asked. </p><p>"Well, I don't think I'd support going through the streets and murdering people in their beds. <em>But, some people don't</em> deserve to live. Who use their power to hurt and subjugate the lower classes." </p><p>"I heard that you lived in the forest. You good at gettin' 'round?" He asked. </p><p>"You bet your ass I am," Emilia laughed. "I'm practically a survival expert at this point." </p><p>His lips raised into a slight smile. He looked over her shoulder, and she turned around. Two people sat at the table next to them with their drinks. "My friends," he said. "I think you would be a good fit to be one of my friends as well." </p><p>"And...what do your friends do?" She asked. </p><p>"Most things," he said with a shrug. "Champions of the little people, who are sick of licking noble asshole." He reached under the table and pulled out a red handkerchief. "Take it, and be our friend, won't you?" </p><p>"What do I have to do?" She asked. </p><p>"Relax, we aren't asking you to kill anyone," he said. "Sometimes, you have to shove a pie in someone's face. Sometimes, you'll bring dirty little secrets out in the open and ruin a noble prick whose head got too big." </p><p>"Does this little band of yours have a name?" </p><p>"Not really," he said with a shrug. "We're just the friends of Red Jenny." He slid the red cloth over to her. "Would you like to be our friend, Emilia?" He asked. </p><p>She picked it up and looked at it. A black J was embroidered on the corner. She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be your friend," she said. </p><p>"Wonderful," he said with a smile. "And we already have a mission for you. You'll have to leave the country for a little while. It's in Starkhaven." </p><p>She frowned. She'd need to leave Clint. But it wasn't like it was goodbye forever. And she <em>was </em>an adult-again-already. "Fine. What do I need to do?"</p><p>"In two weeks, you'll meet a blond woman named Shea at the southern port. She'll give you your mission. The code you'll give is, you'll walk through the crowd and sing "The Bard Songs Remain." And you'll sing that song once an hour, every hour until she approaches you. She'll tie her marker around her neck. Leave tomorrow morning before the sun rises." </p><p>"Yes sir," she said, standing up. </p><p>She walked quickly back home, breaking into a run when she passed the city gates. Their home was still lit up so she didn't mind throwing the door open. "Clint! Holy shit!" She yelled. </p><p>He turned around from where he was reading his book. "Yes, child?" He asked. </p><p>She threw herself into a chair and told him about what had taken place at the tavern. "I'm supposed to set out for my first mission tomorrow." She frowned and looked up at him. "But that means I have to leave you for a while. It's in Starkhaven." </p><p>"Ah," he took a sip of tea and closed his eyes for a moment. "Look at my daughter, all grown up," he said. He laced their fingers together. "I'm so proud of you, Emilia," he said. </p><p>"You...aren't upset?" She asked. </p><p>"<em>No, </em>of course not. It's only natural that a young woman would want to leave her father's side to etch out her identity." </p><p>"What will you do when I leave?" She asked. </p><p>He shrugged. "I've always wanted to return to the ruins of Arlathan, to see what remains. I'll send a stone of far speech with you. You can call me at any time. And when you're ready to return home, I'll meet you there. There's no need to worry about me." </p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>Starkhaven </strong>
</p><p>People were very fancy there. Emilia stuck out a bit, in her shabby leather leggings and long wool tunic. It had been the two-week mark, and she had arrived three days prior. She bought a stick of fish and walked around.</p><p><em>"Arise ye of little faith,<br/>
</em> <em>Who know nothing of history," </em></p><p>She sang as she walked, no one paid her any mind. A few noblemen were laughing together while a servant boy held a tray with silver goblets.   </p><p><em>"I tell you now that we will tell the truth<br/>
</em> <em>Of both the coward and the king <br/>
</em> <em>And all you've done<br/>
</em> <em>Nothing escapes the Bards eyes." </em></p><p>The sun was warm against her skin as she swayed with the music. She looked to her left and saw men tossing a net out over the side of the docks to fish out a boy who had fallen in. They pulled him out of the water, his mother rushed over and wrapped in him a hug.</p><p>"Filthy fucking knife-ears," one of the noblemen muttered from underneath the umbrella his serving girl held. </p><p>
  <em>"Of all the wicked vile things do<br/>
You best believe the Bards are watching you<br/>
And if you try to hide the truth <br/>
The Bards Song Still Remains." </em>
</p><p>"A lovely song," A woman said to her. Emilia turned around and saw a red scarf wrapped around her neck. "Come here often?" She asked, batting her eyelashes.</p><p>"Can't say that I do, ma'am," Emilia told her, finishing her fish and throwing the stick into a wooden box. "It's my first time visiting." </p><p>"Well," the woman said, sauntering closer. "I would just <em>love </em> to show you around if you're interested." </p><p>Emilia smirked when she felt the woman running a smooth hand down her arm. "Sure, lead the way." </p><p>As it turned out this woman <em>was </em>Shea. She took Emilia to her house and locked the door behind her. She tied her long blond hair up and gave Emilia a small lunch. "So, here's what you need to do," she said. "Lady Johane Harimann has been making it...difficult for the fishermen to sell their fish to the other villages around the Free Marches. Taxes almost make it not worth selling and a lot of people are going hungry because of it." </p><p>"Sounds pretty bad," Emilia agreed. </p><p>"It is. So your job is to sneak into her house and put fish in her room. Pack it with as much fish as you can. Then drop into her audience chamber, slap her in the face with a fish, and tell her that we Red Jennies send our regards. Then <em>run. </em>Out of the city. A boy from her household will leave a hatch from the sewer for you open. Climb through and escape out into the river. Then you probably shouldn't come back for a few years." </p><p>Emilia snorted. "Seriously? That's amazing," she said. "And that's it?" She asked. </p><p>"Yes, that's it. Think you can handle it, newbie?" She asked. </p><p>"I'm your woman."  </p>
<hr/><p>She'd climbed up from an ivy ladder and used a thin piece of copper wire to unlatch the window. The woman's room was disgustingly ornate. Most of the nicknacks were made from solid gold. She slipped the net full of a few hundred fish from her shoulder and started stuffing them into the drawers. She stuffed some inside the pillowcases. And she stuffed some in the fancy walk-in closet. Then she took the curtain rods and stuffed little pieces of fish inside of them before hanging them back up. They'd never find them. </p><p>She grabbed the largest fish she had in the net and let the rest hang out on the floor in an arrangement that spelled '<em>Shellfish Bitch.' </em></p><p>She wandered out of the woman's room and through the halls until she found herself on a balcony overlooking the chamber where the bitch in question was holding court. She looked bored. Emilia mapped out her escape first, a servant was standing by an open door, who she hoped would let her pass. That was the only way out. She stood on the ledge and lept toward the chandelier. The nobles in court yelled in shock when she grabbed on, did a flip, and landed in front of Harimann. "The Friends of Red Jenny send their regards!" She yelled before striking her across the face with a wicked upward swing of the fish. She dropped it, turned around, and sprinted as fast as she could toward the door while guards rushed her. </p><p>She'd never run so fast in her life. She found the open sewer hatch and jumped in and slammed it shut behind her, landing ankle deep in some nasty smelling water. It was pitch black, so she lit her hand to see. Then she just followed the rest of the way down the tunnel and out into a rushing river that carried her away from Starkhaven. She crawled out of the river and onto the bank and laid on her back. Then she spent the next thirty minutes laughing, howling madly at the blue sky, almost unable to breathe. </p><p>"Holy shit," she said breathlessly. "That was so <em>fucking cool!" </em>She shouted, raising her arms into the air, balling them into fists. She let her fingers fan out, blocking the sunlight from her eyes. She shot up and sat down, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the stone Clint had given her. She <em>needed </em>to tell him what she'd just done.</p>
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